


Peripheral

by robotwrites



Series: robot makes mikey die [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (a lot of it), F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, Stucky if you squint, and by squint i mean REALLY squint, reader is anxious because i’m projecting, self-deprecation, you wear a dress but that doesn’t mean you’re a girl (boys can wear them too!!)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:58:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotwrites/pseuds/robotwrites
Summary: Remember how those girls in CA:TFA ask Bucky if they’re going dancing and he says yes? Well, you’re not either of those girls. Oh, no. You just get dragged into the mess.And what a mess it is.-(You get forced to come to a dance hall by a friend and Bucky-related shenanigans happen because sometimes, you just gotta write reader-insert to cope.)





	Peripheral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [semistable100yearoldman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semistable100yearoldman/gifts).



> mikey made me do this. ily

She had dragged you here.  _ “It’ll be fun,”  _ she’d said.  _ “You’ll have a great time,” _ she’d said.

 

You were, currently, having the opposite of a great time.

 

The dance hall was too loud, too fast, just plain  _ too much _ for you, but you had promised that you’d stay with your friend no matter what, to keep her company, so you did, despite the fact that she had long since forgotten about you in favor of some sweet-talking boys.  _ Typical, _ you had thought as you saw her dancing like it was the easiest thing in the world.  _ Never thinking about me, just about herself. _

 

You had chided yourself for being so negative, and had vowed to not let your mind get so irrational like that; you didn’t actually hate her, she just got… distracted.

 

So, without anything else to do or anyone else to talk with, you had picked a corner of the room away from the dance floor and just stared. Not watching anyone in particular, just that corner. Sometimes, the clock on the otherwise-bare wall stared back at you for a few minutes straight, but most of the time, people filled your line of sight, clearly having more fun than you were. It was a semi-peaceful existence for a while, if not a very exciting one, but soon your elbows were sore from leaning on them, and you were forced to lean back in your chair.

 

Without your hand against your face, you were forced to see, out of the corner of your eye, the absolute madness that was the rest of the room. Too bright, too chaotic, too much.  _ I should just leave. She knows how to get home, _ you thought.  _ But that would be cruel. What if someone did that to you? _

 

_ Well, I wouldn’t blame them. _

 

You shook the thought out of your mind. Now was not the time, and here not the place for that kind of talk.

 

The corner was empty again, so you decided to stand up, to stretch out your joints just a bit. You dusted off the skirt of your dress, even though it had nothing on it, and tried to stretch out your arms without looking really strange. Then, unceremoniously, you sat back down, perfectly content to continue ignoring the world.

 

People kept moving, kept talking, kept enjoying themselves. You took to counting every second that the distant clock ticked by until you lost count around 100, and as the band nearly made your eardrums burst, you were once again reminded of the grim reality that this night wasn’t going to get any more exciting than this.

 

A familiar beige flashed by the corner of your eye, but it wasn’t anything special to you.  _ Boys go out in uniform all the time, to make themselves feel better,  _ you scoffed internally, and attempted to zone out into the corner once more.

 

But the beige went by again, less distant this time. And it kept moving closer.

 

_ Oh, boy. Am I gonna have to throw punches tonight? _

 

Footsteps sent little tremors through the floor, and didn’t seem to be going anywhere except towards you. You stayed still, pretended to not notice whatever creep was about to bug you, and prepared yourself for the worst as you heard a voice speak up over the noise of the crowd.

 

“Mind if I join you?”

 

You steeled your face and prepared the most biting response you could at this hour of the night. Your head turned towards the speaker and took a deep breath -

 

Only to have it knocked out of you.

 

_ What the hell?  _ Standing there next to the table was a man much taller than you, with blue eyes that seemed to see right into your soul. Clean uniform, broad shoulders, clearly strong,  _ oh, God, he’s really cute. _

 

You then realized you were staring.

 

Quickly snapping your attention back into your lap, where you fidgeted with your hands, you responded with a hasty “Um, yes, if you’d like.”  _ Lord, help me. I am not prepared for this. _

 

Somehow, despite his size, he sat down across from you gently, removing his uniform hat and folding his hands politely. You only stole glances at him through your hair, and couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, but he stepped in for you.

 

“Too noisy for you, huh?”

 

A tentative smile crossed your face at the sentiment. “Yes, actually. I’m - I’m not too fond of it here, if we’re being honest.”  _ Damn it, this is  _ **_not_ ** _ the time for the stutter to come back -  _ You tried to lift your posture to force yourself to make eye contact, but you couldn’t bring yourself to see any of him but glimpses.

 

“Well, then, why are you here?” You took a small breath to answer, but he interrupted: “Ah, wait. Let me guess…” You glanced up long enough to see him tap his chin in faux-thought. “Not here by choice, but by, ah, social obligation? A friend brought you here because they didn’t want to be alone?”

 

You nodded.  _ Say something, idiot, he’s being nice! _

 

“Well, I’m sorry that happened to you. Sorta like my situation.” His chair creaked as he leaned back in it. “Took my friend on a double date, or at least tried to, to that science exhibition downtown. Told the girls we were going dancing, but Steve -” he paused to laugh. “- that stupid punk - he ran off  _ again _ to try to, y’know, enlist. Been rejected five times.  _ Five _ .” He sighs resignedly. “Just doesn’t know when to quit. I just hope to God they keep rejecting him, I’d hate to see him hurt out there. Still can’t believe  _ I’m _ going.”

 

Listening to his talking should have, logically, made you more comfortable with his presence, but the jitters were only getting worse. You bounced your leg, tapped your fingers, breathed a little faster, tried to glimpse him through your nervous eyes.  _ If I don’t make eye contact soon, he’ll think I’m nuts. God, why this? Why me? _

 

“Oh, where are my manners?” He scolded himself and held out his hand across the table. “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. But friends can call me Bucky.”

 

_ It’s just a handshake, just do it, stop waiting - _

 

You, smiling awkwardly, gave your hand in return, made eye contact for three terrifying seconds, and returned to your fear. The noise started to overwhelm you and you tried to hide it -

 

But Bucky saw right through you.

 

Smiling that same knowing smile, he leaned towards your cowering form.

 

“You alright?”

 

How could you respond? Yes would make a fool of you, no would make you a liar.  _ Maybe if I sit here long enough, he’ll leave, and I’ll be able to forget that this happened - _

 

Without warning, he stood, leaning on his right hand, and gently curled a finger under your chin, lifting your face out of your chest.

 

For the second time, you looked him square in the face, struck dumb and still by fear and, unfortunately, by attraction.

 

He tilted his head, raised his eyebrows, and half-lidded his eyes, and in a voice that made you shake just a bit, said: 

 

“I like being looked at while I’m talking, sweetheart.”

 

You didn’t break eye contact for the rest of the night.


End file.
